by Piper Rayne
“Really?” Dax is clearly interested in the fact.
A fry hits his forehead.
He picks it up and places it back in front of Brandon. “You’d hate to lose out over the technicality of one fry.”
“Hands off,” Brandon mumbles a warning to Dax.
Dax holds his hands in the air. “Hey man, her hands aren’t massaging my shoulders.”
Finally, Mia’s hands leave my shoulders, as her attention is directed to talking to some other people behind me. Brandon and I both have our milkshakes in hand and I can tell my stomach has had it with this challenge. Bile rises up my throat, but I swallow the burning liquid back down.
I’m sucking on the straw as fast as humanly possible. I’d blame Brandon for telling the restaurant to make mine extra thick if his own lips weren’t puckered so hard he looks like Zoolander himself.
“You’re both pale as fuck.” Jagger’s attention flips back and forth between the two of us.
I finally take off the lid and pour the thick liquid down my throat. The coolness giving my hot, aching throat some relief.
Brandon does the exact same thing and somehow seems able to open his throat so he’s just pouring the shake down there. Before I know it, he slams his cup down to claim victory. Dax examines all the wrappers and cups to make sure there’s nothing left. Yeah, we take this challenge shit way too seriously.
“Fuck!” I stand up, tossing my almost empty cup on the table where it lands on its side.
Dax stands up, grabbing Brandon’s hand like he’s a prized boxer that just won a fight in his weight class. He raises it up in the air. “And the winner is… Brandon Salter!”
* * *
Chapter Two
* * *
Today is a perfect day to train. The sun is warm on my face, the snow is glistening like it belongs on a movie set, and it’s cold enough that it’s like powder. Jagger came out for a few runs earlier, but has taken up residence in the bar at the bottom of the hill. Brandon, Dax, and myself aren’t about to stop.
“Let’s make a wager.” Brandon meets me at the top of the halfpipe.
“Let’s just ride.”
Brandon’s been my best friend since forever. We grew up in the same small Vermont town where we wrote ourselves out of school to hit the slopes so many times during our senior year, we almost didn’t graduate. We’d watched so many of our friends get their GED and snowboard all winter. Hell, some don’t even have their GED, they just quit school.
Brandon’s and my parents are best friends and once they caught on to what we were up to they sat us down and stipulated that we graduate high school first and then we can do what we want. So, that summer after graduation when our friends were partying it up before college, we flew to New Zealand. We should be grateful mother fuckers because we were sponsored by that winter and started working the competitions.
Of course, my body remembers every ounce of hard work it took. People say we got lucky, but really, Brandon and I are so similar, we worked hard and pushed each other to be where we’re at.
“Come on, you know you always ride better when we’ve got something riding on the win.” Brandon smiles, slaps me on the back.
I shake my head, he’s always pushing the buttons, making everything a damn contest. So much, I’m scared what will happen when we both make it to the Winter Classics. Only one of us can claim gold.
“You know I’ve been trying to nail that trick,” I say.
“Take a break from that one and let me dictate what you can do.”
I hem and haw, it’s so beautiful out I don’t want to ruin the day when his sour puss attitude awakens if I beat him.
It wasn’t always like this for us, we encouraged and challenged each other. The more events we went to though, I started to see Brandon keeping a tally of which one of us won and lost. He’d give backhanded compliments about my tricks if I won. Not to say I didn’t act like a pissed off teenage girl when I lost—going to my room for the night and slamming my door, or when I headed home early because I claimed third once. Sometimes, times like today, I miss the two kids who skipped school just for the fun of the sport.
“Fine.” I relent because Brandon knows me well. Competition is where I shine and maybe with the little added pressure, I’ll nail the trick I can’t seem to land.
A cocky smile takes residence on his lips and he acts like he’s assessing me. I wait patiently. “Okay, cab 1090 double cork.”
I place my googles over my eyes, shaking my head at the easy trick he gave me.
“Hey,” he calls out and I turn back to him. “I see you and my sister.”
“You see nothing from my end.”
“I think you’re lying, but do me a favor, back off. She’s doing well in her competitions and I’d hate to see her never make a name for herself because she was distracted, you know?”
I pick up my goggles and rest them on my head. “Did you just give me permission to date your sister?”
His face goes stone cold. “No, I didn’t.”
Damn, has my attraction to her been that transparent? I’m glad to know he thinks enough of me that he wouldn’t object to me dating Mia, but he’s right. She needs to focus on making herself known in this industry using her own snowboarding skills, not her boyfriend’s name.
I nod, placing my goggles back on. “Oh,” I lean over. “You’re to do hard way front side 270. See you at the bottom.”
“Come on, at least challenge me!” he screams.
I laugh, placing my ear buds in and heading down the pipe.
Both of us do our tricks flawlessly and we find ourselves back on top of the halfpipe for the third time.
“Okay, I’ve done your easy shit. You know what I’m bad at and vice versa. At least challenge me,” Brandon says.
We stand there and let a few of our friends head down in front of us while we contemplate the tricks we’re going to give the other.
That fucker beat me last night and I’m primed to teach him a lesson. No way could I stand listening to him gloat if he won two in a row.
“Fine. Do a double cork 1440.”
Brandon smiles, nodding his head. “There you go, Rogue.” He smacks me on the shoulder. “Finally manned up. I was worried about you for a second.”
His words aren’t meant to make me sour on him, but part of me worries whether there will be a friendship left after we both qualify for the Winter Classics.
“I’m going to give you a switch double cork 1440.”
Fucker.
I should’ve had him give me mine first.
“Are you assholes done yet? I’m starving.” Dax slides over on his board. Since he’s competing for motocross snowboarding, he’s only here for fun. “I think I might join your cousin in the bar. I bet he can get some serious ass.”
“Yeah, this is the last run,” I say.
Brandon gets ready before me, placing his goggles on and giving us a thumbs-up. Now the fucker cuts in front of me.
“What’s with him lately?” Dax asks after Brandon slides down to the starting position. “It’s like he has something to prove.”
“Well, watch this because I gave him the double cork 1440.” I chuckle to myself because he’ll never do it and that should shut him up for the rest of the day.
“Shit man, you know he’s not ready for that.”
“He gave me the switch double cork 1440.”
Dax shakes his head. “You guys are like two lions fighting for the same steak. Sooner or later this is going to end badly.”
“Watch the fucker land it and I’ll be eating crow the entire day,” I grumble.
Both of our gazes focus on Brandon as he drops into the pipe. He grabs some serious air on the first trick.
“Fuck, he might just do it,” Dax says next to me. A few of our friends stop nearby to watch Brandon. “I’m seriously going to crap my pants if he makes it.”
Brandon flies up the side, flips, effectively doing the trick. The furthest he’s gotten al
l season.
Dax’s arms are up in the air, cheers ringing out from all our friends.
“Son of a bitch—” He’s seriously going to land it.
Then, I’m not even sure what happens, but he slams, landing on his side, and his body slides down to the middle of the halfpipe. My stomach jolts like I just coasted down a huge hill on a roller coaster.
“Get up,” I murmur to myself. “Get up.”
We’re all staring at him, but he doesn’t move at all. Not one muscle twitch.
“OH SHIT!” Dax, me and half of our friends slide down the halfpipe.
I fall to my knees and lift his goggles. His eyes are shut and there’s blood coming out of his mouth from a cut on the side of his face.
All the noise around me falls away and all I hear is the buzzing in my ears. I know people are screaming for medics, talking about a helicopter, but all I can do is fixate on Brandon’s lifeless body. Half of me wants to pummel him and the other half wants to pummel myself. He wanted to play the game, but I dealt the cards. The cards that may have landed him in a casket.
The medics race over, frantic words pouring from their lips. I watch as they stabilize his neck, and lift him carefully on a board. Brandon still isn’t moving.
My lungs constrict, and I can barely drag in a breath. They take him into the medic building and I follow behind in a daze, as if this is an out of body experience.
Time passes. Seconds, minutes…I don’t even know how long.
Finally, I snap out of it and panic grips me. “Where the fuck is the chopper?” I scream just as the sound of whirring propellers rings out around us.
No time is wasted as they get him on the helicopter and just like that, he’s gone. We were up on the hill razzing each other and a snap of a finger later, he’s in a helicopter on his way to a hospital that will hopefully save his life.
“They’re taking him to Memorial,” a medic informs us. Dax and I look to one another.
“Let’s go.” We turn around and when I see her standing there in the doorway, a cargo size weight lands on my stomach.
Mia’s soft brown eyes stare back at me. “What’s going on? I saw the chopper.”
She has her board tucked under her arm, her usual smile for me on display.
Dax releases a long breath beside me.
“Mia, there’s been an accident,” I say, my voice quivering.
How can I look into those big, cocoa eyes and devastate this girl?
* * *
Chapter Three
* * *
Mia’s smile turns down and I step forward, needing to hold on to her to anchor myself. I pull her into my arms, hug her against my body.
“What?” she says, pushing me away. “Where’s Brandon?”
People around us are talking, little bits and pieces of what happened. Some are citing worst-case scenarios and other optimists assume Brandon will be back on his feet by dinner.
“We have to go to the hospital.” Dax swings the keys in his hand, his eyes widening and telling me that we’ll have to talk to her in the car.
“Is he okay? What happened?” I can tell Mia’s trying to listen to everyone else’s conversations around us. The ones that are telling her a hell of a lot more than I am at the moment.
“He fell. We really gotta go,” I say.
She doesn’t move, and I know she’s probably processing the information, but I’m about to pick her up and carry her to the car over my shoulder.
“I think he’s probably dead. A tube was sticking out of his throat,” one guy says to another as they pass us by.
Mia’s face pales, her mouth hanging open as she turns to me, the person who caused this.
“Is that true?” she whispers.
“He didn’t even wake up. He was limp like a dead fish,” the other one says.
I grab the back of his jacket and yank him back my way. He looks over, holding his hands up in front of him, acting innocent.
“Whoa,” the other friend comes over.
“Mind your own fucking business.” I cock my fist back, ready to knock this guy out, but two hands grip my arm before I can connect.
“This is helping no one,” Mia says, finally realizing the severity of the situation.
“It’s your lucky day asshole,” Dax says as the three of us run toward the truck.
* * *
Walking through the sliding doors of the hospital and seeing all the movement, tells me Brandon is not okay. I’m sure there are other patients here, but there’s an energy, a feeling that something serious just happened and the tension is palpable.
The nurse at the desk glances up, her fingers hovering over the phone. “Family?” she asks.
I point to Mia. “Sister.”
She looks to Mia and then us. “And you are?”
“Best friends.”
She nods. “I was just about to try to reach family. Would you like to call yourself?”
“Why? Is he…dead?” Mia’s voice cracks and tears stream down her face. “I can’t. I can’t tell my parents.” She’s growing hysterical, shaking her head, her hair flying from side to side.
The nurse stands, rounds the station and wraps her arm around Mia. “He’s not dead. He’s in serious condition though and we’re going to need your parent’s permission to conduct some medical procedures.” She’s talking like Mia is going to comprehend all this. She’s a teenager for fuck sake.
The nurse guides Mia over to me and I wrap my arm around her, letting her burrow into me like those rabbits in the newspaper at the pet store.
“Is he awake?” Dax asks.
The nurse holds up her hands. “Listen, I don’t know much right now, but why don’t you all go into the family waiting room and call his parents. Someone will be out to update you.”
We all nod like a bunch of scolded kids and head in the direction she points. The waiting room is empty, so we take a seat, Mia still not letting me go. I place her in the chair with Dax on the other side and make the dreaded phone call to Mr. and Mrs. Salter. Guilt flows through my veins and I’m half tempted to tell them that I may have killed their son.
Mrs. Salter answers the phone with her cheerful B & B welcoming voice.
“Jan,” I say.
I’m not sure if she hears it in my voice, but the line goes silent. After all, I never call her.
“Where’s Mia?” she asks, more concerned about her high school daughter who came to spend some of her winter break with us than her adult son.
“She’s fine, she’s here.”
“Brandon?” I hear her footsteps on the other end, her breathing pronounced enough that I know she’s not just standing at the kitchen counter preparing the afternoon tea for their guests.
“He’s had an accident. He fell.”
A strangled cry leaves her lips, a sound that will forever be imbedded into my memory. “How bad?” She pulls the phone away from her. “BOB!” she screams.
“They aren’t telling us much, but he was unconscious when they Life Flighted him. I think it’s bad.”
“No, no, no, no.” Sniffling comes next and then the phone drops.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Salter,” I say. “It’s Grady.”
In the background, Mrs. Salter is rambling on about what I’ve told her while Mr. Salter is trying to understand.
“Okay, okay,” he murmurs and I assume he’s talking to his wife.
“Grady, I want you to take the phone to the nurse’s station, I want to talk to someone.” Mr. Salter must be in shock because he’s so calm and coherent.
“Okay.” I walk out of the waiting room and away from a rocking Mia, leaving Dax to console her.
“Excuse me,” I approach the same nurse from moments ago. “His parents would like to talk to someone. They’re in Vermont so they can’t come right away.”
She nods and holds her hand out for the phone. I pass it over then rest my head on the counter, unzipping my coat as sweat collects at the back of my neck
. Ten minutes later, the nurse hands me back the phone.
“Mr. Salter?” I ask, unsure if he’s even on the line.
“Yes, Grady. We’re on our way. I want you and Mia to sit tight, we’re going to get there as soon as we can. I’m not going to sugarcoat this Grady.” He pauses. “Go on upstairs and pack,” he whispers to Mrs. Salter. “Okay, Grady, Brandon is in bad shape. They think he’s had a traumatic brain injury and they’re running a series of tests. They most likely won’t know much until we land. Please hold down the fort, maybe get Mia to go back to the lodge, although I doubt she will.”
“Me either, but I’ll try. She’s pretty shaken up.”
“I assumed she would be. Just take care of one another. We’ll be there soon. The hospital has received our permission for any further tests needed while we’re in transit.”
“Okay.”
“We’ll see you soon.”
Click. The line goes dead and my stomach churns, unsure how to process all this. I’m the one that caused him to get hurt in the first place and here I am having to hold down the fort like I’m a fucking hero or something.
I walk into the waiting room. Mia’s legs are pulled into her chest, her snow pants and jacket sit on a separate chair. Dax is in the middle of removing his extra layers, too.
“You two go back to the lodge. I’ll call with updates,” I say with more confidence than I feel.
Mia picks up her head, narrowing her bloodshot eyes at me. “No.”
“I’m with Mia, we’re not going anywhere.”
“There’s no reason for all of us to be here. Your parents are on their way.” Just then my phone rings and I pull it out, seeing my mom’s name on the screen. “Hold up.” I pick up Mia’s jacket and hold it out for her.
“Mom,” I answer.
Mia shakes her head, her hands not leaving her legs.
“Oh, sweetie I just heard. We’re going to stay back for a few days, help them clear out their guests and our own from the B & B’s and then we’ll come out.”
“You don’t have to,” I say.
